


The Aftermath- Betrayal is an Art Form

by IGuessNot



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dystopian, Gen, I wrote this in one hit so good luck, My First AO3 Post, Wow, cyborg roulette, don't hurt me I'm new, had to write this for an assignment, here have some angst, my co-creator was a lack of sleep, read this at 2am or not at all, this made my friends cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IGuessNot/pseuds/IGuessNot
Summary: "I turn back to camp, to the last three humans left on Earth. If they keep believing me, maybe I can keep this going. Maybe I can pull this off."Set in a dystopian era where the system is more important than genuine human connection, because things aren't always as they seem.
Kudos: 4





	The Aftermath- Betrayal is an Art Form

"Up!" 

Ughhh, morning, the worst time of day. Why did I set my alarm to sound like a person? 

"Get up, now!" 

My alarm never fails to go off at exactly the moment I wish I was asleep. Then again, it would be hard for it not to. 

I lift my hand to my head, and look over to see BR991 still sleeping in his bed across from mine. I crawl across the floor to his side of our shared dormitory, staying as silent as I can. He stirs, I pause, waiting until he quiets down again, then I position my hands directly above his head and clap. 

"Aaaah!" He screams, jumping out of his bed. I don't see it though, tears are flowing down my neck - I can feel my face go red, but I just can't stop laughing. 

"It wasn't that funny," he says as I roll around on the floor, "after all," he adds, "you shouldn't make fun of a superior officer like that!" 

I know he's right, but I can't stop thinking about him as a best friend who happens to be ranked above me, not the other way around, "maybe when you become a better shot than me I'll respect you more," I retort. 

I expect him to say something back, not just, "Come on, let's get some breakfast." 

*** 

We sit at our usual table, with HY768, KN444 and RT143 opposite me, and BR991 to my side. 

"Hey, Peter!" KN444 says, "pass the butter, would you?" I gave up asking her to stop calling me that a long time ago, but it still frustrates me that they insist on calling me by my old fashioned name. 

"I think we should head east today," BR991 says to the table, "we haven't yet gone further than 10 fields in that direction." 

We all agree, not that we have to, he is the leader of our group. 

*** 

"Why are we doing this?" RT143 asks, again. 

"You know why," HY768 replies, "to see if we can live anywhere outside of the bunker." 

He has a habit of sounding like a walking encyclopedia. 

"Yeah," RT143, "but do we have to walk? Or wear these weird suits?" 

"You're walking because we need to explore new areas that aren't accessible in a buggy, and you're wearing the suits because we don't know if you'd survive without one," after saying this, BR991 walks ahead of the group, leaving us behind. 

"What's wrong with him?" RT143 asks. 

"I dunno," I reply, "but whatever it is, it looks like we should stay out of it." 

We set up camp in what I know used to be called New York. Apparently it was an amazing sight, not that you can see that any more. The war destroyed everything; the buildings, the people, even the countries. No one knows where they're from or which side they were on, just that after hundreds of years of war, the outside became uninhabitable. That's our job, to take readings of the world around us and send them to the officials. We haven’t been told what we’re measuring, just that it’s important to the cause. 

"I've got a 14, 25, 12, and 17 over here, let's see how this goes over night." 

We leave the equipment set up overnight around the camp, checking the readings every hour. Our life is a strange one- we all work hard, but haven’t been told what we’re working for. 

As I ponder our motivation, my eyelids start to fall, and my mind turns to the topic of sleep, what a wonderful idea. I turn the equipment in my section over to night mode, and fall into a deep and wonderful sleep. 

*** 

"Hey, wake up!" It's BR991, but he doesn't look himself. I follow him, past the others, out of the camp. 

"Where are we going?" I ask him, but he won't answer. His eyes dart from side to side, he wipes his hands on his pants, his hands... "why aren't you wearing your suit? You'll die!" I exclaim, he finally turns around. 

"Took you long enough to notice," he says. 

"B, what are we doing here?" 

He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind. He paces back and forth, until he stops in front of me and looks off into the distance. "Have you ever wondered why we don't know what we're doing all of this for?" He asks me, gesturing back in the direction of the camp. 

"Of course I have," I reply, "but what does that matter?" 

At this he starts to pace again, just what we need. 

"B, seriously, what are you talking about?" I can tell he wants to say something, I can tell it might be the most important left on Earth. 

"It's safe," he says quietly, "it's all a lie, it's safe!" He gets louder as he goes on, "yesterday, when you woke me up, I thought I knew, I was almost certain that it was true, and I was right. The world is safe, everything we thought we knew about our history was a lie. But one thing I don't understand is, something has been feeding information to us, something is manipulating us, who are we giving this data to, why are we doing this? I had to take you away from camp, for all I know it could be one of the others, you can't trust any-" 

BR991's body slumped to the ground, I always knew I was a good shot. I feel saddened to have shot a friend, but the cause will always take priority. I turn back to camp, to the last three humans left on Earth. If they keep believing me, maybe I can keep this going. Maybe I can pull this off.


End file.
